


The Dreams That You Dare

by PuppyGuppy



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Dream Eater!Riku, Dream!Riku, Dry Humping, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Post DDD, Riku waxing poetry, cheeky kinda toppy Sora, it's too much for Riku and Sora is too much for Riku but its okay because Sora's got him, nearly 10k words of frottage, pillow humping, soft slightly subby riku, this is just a lot of gay okay, unbeta'd we die like men, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 00:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19801300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyGuppy/pseuds/PuppyGuppy
Summary: He felt like he'd gotten way more than he bargained for in this silly adventure. Bitten off more than he could chew. He'd dived into this dream in search of a horny Sora, and what he got instead was an existential crisis, emotional roller coaster, and theweirdestboner.





	The Dreams That You Dare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fireborn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireborn/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Like the Sun Waits for the Moon to Rise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19224022) by [Fireborn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireborn/pseuds/Fireborn). 



> Title inspired by "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" because _yes_ , I am _that gay._

Riku scrunched up his face, tongue rolling around the dryness of his mouth. He'd been deep in sleep, warm and comfortable and blank, but for some reason, consciousness had tugged his body into feeling again. Thoughts were slow to come, along with his vision, both taking several blinks to focus. He was still tired, evident by how boneless and heavy he felt, like he was actually part of the mattress, but something refused to let him drift back to sleep. He yawned, long and soft, but quiet in the stillness of the room. _What was it?_

After a few more seconds of just lying there, blinking, Riku figured a few things out. He didn't have to pee, so that wasn't it. And none of his limbs tingled or itched, so that wasn't it, either. The room was hazy, full of the periwinkle glow from the galaxy outside the window. It was the closest this world got to having an early morning sunrise, a dawn, and it was the kind of light that didn't really illuminate, but bathed everything in a brighter shade of still-dark. He had to squint, still, to make anything out.

But he didn't really _need_ eyesight to see what was right in front of him.

Sora was perfectly tucked up against his front. They were spooning, in the way that had become the natural norm for them as of a recent turn of events. There was something profound in the simplicity of the cuddle- something about Sora feeling protected, _safe_ , with their hearts beating messages to each other through touching rib cages while they slept. And Riku just liked falling to sleep with the smell of Sora's hair filling his nose. It's how they slept more often than not, now, usually topped off with tangled legs and clasped hands. No more dictated sides of the bed.

This time, though, things were a bit different. Riku still had his nose pressed to Sora's scalp (he took a few, _deep_ breaths in just because he could); this late in the night, he smelled less of what he showered with and more of just _him_. He had his arms curled, _possessive_ , around Sora, but where he would usually feel clammy hands joined with his own, he felt the fabric of Sora's pajamas instead. Because Sora, in turn, had his hands fisted in the pillow he was spooning. It was honestly the _cutest fucking thing_ to Riku, and he subconsciously squeezed Sora a little tighter, sleepy smile hidden in chocolate bedhead.

He felt Sora twitch in his sleep, figured it was in response to the squeeze, and had full intent on drifting back to sleep himself, completely forgetting about what had woken him up in the first place. But then Sora twitched again, and it was less of a twitch and more of a _move_ , and Riku felt it not only physically, but from behind his eyes and within his heart as well.

His breath caught in his throat, and he held it there. Without moving, he craned his eyes down as far as he could, taking in as much as he could from between tufts of hair. There was another shift, another unseen _tug_ from deep within him, and then the sound of his name muffled against a pillow. The pillow Sora was hugging. The pillow Sora was _humping_.

 _That's_ what woke him up.

Slowly, he released the breath he'd been holding, and it shuddered through Sora's hair. He was dreaming, a _sex_ dream, and Riku already knew what, or better yet, _who_ it was about. He'd been at these crossroads before. It's what had given him the final push to fall into the waters of _more than friends_ that had been tempting him and Sora for ages. It was then, that Sora had also given complete consent for Riku to dive into his dreams, any dreams, not just Nightmares, and even _wet_ dreams. It was then that Sora, with his easy trust and open heart, had assumed Riku already _had_. Which put him where he was now. With Sora in his arms, rutting up into a pillow (and, consequently back against his _dick_ ), subconsciously feeling out for the link between their hearts.

Sora had given him permission. Said it was _more_ than okay. But still, Riku hesitated. He _wanted_ , gods did he want, but he waited. He'd never done anything like this. Any other time he dove into Sora's heart, his dreams, it was always to protect him. He had no frame of reference for what diving into a dream like _this_ would do. What if this was a dream Sora didn't want to share? He couldn't really wake him up and _ask_.

There was a stronger, sharper _pull_ on his senses, almost like an insistent whine, and it was so _Sora_. It made Riku's decision for him. The Dream Eater in him responded in kind, grabbing hold of that link with hungry, _greedy_ hands. There was always something so primal about that part of him, and Riku had slowly gotten comfortable with associating such animalistic traits with _protecting_ Sora. When Sora was in danger, he didn't mind losing control, since he never lost _focus._ He could turn a blind eye to the feeding beast as long as Sora was safe. Riku's had _worse_ inside him. However, it would still take some time for him to get used to associating this part of him with... _other_ needs. Everything went unbearably hot unbearably fast, and he wasn't sure if it was the Dream Eater or _him_ that cried out in carnal response to the vacuume of pleasure he was suddenly traveling down.

Usually, Riku would have to pry his way into a dream. Finger at its form until he found a pressure point, a thoroughfare in which he could take a deep breath, glimpse what he was up against, then _dive_. It was all very methodical, precise and practiced. He was getting quite good at it. It would seem already this was very, _very_ different. Instead of searching for a way in, the moment he made coherent contact with the link, it had felt like he was physically sucked into the Dream. He'd had no time to judge where he was going or what he might see once there. All he registered in the dive was heat and light and _love_ , the kind that left him oversensitive and hyper-aware and extremely turned on.

And standing on a _rainbow_.

He couldn't help but laugh to himself, because of _course_ there were rainbows in Sora's sex dreams. He hadn't known what to expect, but a quick survey of the space around him at least gave him some answers. And further explained the somehow solid fracture of light he was standing on.

The world was familiar, and _beautiful_. Instantly recognizable as the Symphony of Sorcery. Riku had been there, once before, during their Mark of Mastery exam. But then, it had been riddled with Nightmares and the need to save Sora. Now the world seemed at peace, full of sunshine and brightly colored animals flitting about. There was a gentle breeze, and on it, the sound of birdsong and _their song_ carried. Riku felt his heart swell. It was already so pretty and romantic that it bordered on _cheesy_.

"Oh, Sora." Riku shook his head, exasperated and fond. Of course it was like this. _Of course_. But, romantic setting aside, it's not what he was here for. It's not what beckoned him, _begged_ him to be here. He had to find Sora. Which, judging on the vast expanse of this dreamworld, he could be _anywhere_. In front of him, at the end of the rainbow, stretched clouds as far as the eye could see, occasionally broken up by dark mountain peaks. Behind him, and _beneath_ him, appeared to be a valley absolutely covered in wildflowers, winding into sloping hills and following a crystal stream. Normally, when he dove into a Nightmare, the link brought him directly into the eye of the storm. Not in the middle of nowhere.

Shyly, Riku focused on that link, and did his best to call out to Sora. Not so much with words, but with a feeling of _want_. And curiosity. A metaphorical question mark seeking it's answer. He closed his eyes, steadied his breathing, and _listened_. Not with his ears, but with his heart. One beat, then another, and-

The Dream Eater, _Riku_ , keened at the answering call. And with how much he bodily reacted, he had to finally admit to himself, that they were one in the same. Riku _was_ a Dream Eater. It was just _him_ feeling these things. It was okay. _More_ than okay. Sora had said so. And it's not like what he was experience was bad. Quite the contrary, the shivers that wracked his spine and made his toes curl with a double-shot of unabashed lust, felt _good_. So what if it was a little weird that something in him hungered in a bit more of a literal sense? He was in Sora's _sex dream._ There was nothing about this that wasn't weird. And Sora _liked_ a bit of weird, as far as he'd learned.

Sora liked him. _Loved him_.

And no part of Riku could ignore a call like _that_.

He knew where he had to go. Passed the rainbow and into the clouds. Briefly, he wondered if the fluffy things would actually hold him up, but he was _standing on a rainbow_ , so he took a bold, assuming step forward and hoped he wouldn't go careening down to the valley below. At least he wouldn't _die_ here. But, the clouds sustained his weight just fine, the terrain feeling like a feather duvet beneath his feet. He disturbed little puffs as he stumbled, tickling his soles. It was soft, squishy, and he sank in some spots, but once he got the hang of it, headed in the direction the link was guiding him to. At that moment, he wished he'd gone to bed with shoes on.

He hadn't been walking too long when he came across another rainbow, this one shrouded ominously by clouds. It looked like a tunnel, less of a bridge and more of a slide. It's where his heart told him to go, but he still eyed it apprehensively. There was something akin to a firework going off in his brain, and he actually had to close his eyes and bite his lip against the quick onslaught of pleasure. This would have been so much easier, he thought, if he wasn't traversing the world with a _hard-on_. It was kind of like having a vibrator strapped to his whole body, and somewhere, Sora had the remote.

His knees shook.

And he'd like to blame that for the reason he stumbled, non-too-gracefully, down that aforementioned tunnel and with way too much momentum.

He landed with a grunt, disturbed light particles and mist whooshing around in his wake. He had to blink slowly, several times, in order to clear the rush from the dazzling show around him, the fall, and the _link._ He took a moment to appreciate the soft, bouncy substrate that had broken his fall- it hurt, but could have been much worse. Thoughts finally gathered, he pushed himself up, groaning all the way due to shocked muscles and-

the erection he was still apparently sporting.

He wanted to care about it. He wanted to feel even just a _tiny_ bit of shame, because really, it was _embarrassing_ , the state he was in. He could only hope Sora didn't see it. _Could_ he see it? Is that how dreams worked? He didn't know. And really, it was only a small part of him that cared. The rest of him thrummed, in synch with a hum in the back of his mind that resembled the thought of _close, close, close._ His body moved on its own, feet carrying him quickly and more confidently this time across the airy tundra. Over another rainbow, around a rocky peak, it was the same kind of autopilot he experienced when hunting in a bad dream, fervent and almost feverish. Senses searching, following the lead, a scent he couldn't even pick up on yet until he was panting, heart hammering.

Until he _could_ smell it.

And it was close, close, _closer,_ and it was Sora, and the pull was now met with Riku's _push_ at the proximity, but there was also something _else_ , something frighteningly familiar but entirely abstract mingling in the link, but nothing could stop the desire in him from ebbing him onward.

Until he could _see_ it.

And by _it,_ he could see _him._

Himself.

And Sora.

Everything in him _stopped._ Like zapped by a spell. The excitement, the heat, the _need-_ all replaced by a shattered, confused silence. He didn't breathe, didn't think, but he also _didn't look away._ It was like he was abruptly given the controls to his entire body back, but the previous pilot hadn't given him a proper hand-over. Mayday, mayday, he was going _down._

At least, down behind a particularly fluffy patch of cloud, as to not be seen. Not that the two people in front of him would have probably _noticed_ , not when so wrapped up in each other. But, still, he couldn't shake the feeling creeping into his chest, telling him that he was interrupting something. That he shouldn't have even _been there._ Even though it was only Sora. Sora and himself. But not _himself,_ not really. Just another replica. Part of the dream. A dream within a dream. _A dreamy Riku_ , his brain supplied. Which only further proved how flabberghasted this whole thing had him.

Still, he didn't move. _Couldn't_ move. Not when a new feeling wormed its way under his skin. It wasn't entirely his, evident in the way the feeling inquisitively hummed its way down the back of his throat. A hesitant wonder without words. A _what-if._ But he was in control now. He could decide to leave, if he wanted to. He could wake up, shake himself off, and sulk about the complicated way he'd managed to cockblock _himself._ He had the control. Too bad his focus was set dead ahead of him.

There was no way he was waking up.

Not when Sora moaned through a laugh, warm and fond, and Riku felt something _cherished_ slide through the link, until it rested heavy and welcome between his heart and gut. He'd been given permission. This was _okay._ Nothing was sending off alarm bells. It was just. _Weird._ But he hadn't known what to expect on this whole endeavor. He'd _hoped_ to participate, but if all he could do was watch, he figured he might as well. If anything, at least it might give him some ideas. Sleeping with Sora was never anything short of _amazing,_ but if he could do _more..._

Now that Riku was paying attention, he could feel the link again, ever-present deep in his heart. There was warmth coming from it, and indistinguishable thoughts of _comfort._ He tried his best to cut the link off on his end, preventing any stray thoughts or feelings to transfer back to Sora. He wanted to see this for what it _was._ What Sora was seeing. And he worried his announced presence might throw things off. Clearly, Sora was unaware that he had dove into his dream, or else the _other_ Riku wouldn't even be there.

Wouldn't even be there _shirtless_ and _kneeling over Sora._

Riku gulped.

From where he could see, Sora was lying down, body distorted slightly by puffy popcorn and _Dream_ Riku. He wasn't shirtless, but his sleeping shirt was shoved up, bunched up under his arms and exposing his chest. Dream Riku was over him, a leg on either side of Sora's waist, caging him in. From there, Riku could easily see the scars that littering his _own_ back. Gashes and slices in varying degrees of healing. The rough edges of the burn left behind from Xemnas's laser; it took up a good portion of his side, and reached around both his back and his front. Subciounsly, he reached down to touch the marred skin through his shirt, but the feeling there had never come back. Then there was the _sigil,_ not really a scar but a faint, iridescent marking of his skin to indicate his metamorphosis into a _Dream Eater._ All in all, his back was a bit of a mess, a haphazard map of the battles both won and lost without any spare potions or energy to heal. The rest of him only faired a little better. Sometimes they hurt, sometimes they didn't feel anything. Much like himself. But then there were the times they felt _okay._ Like when Sora touched them.

Riku's eyes were brought back up to the scene at hand, after a gasp not _Sora's_ reached his ears. Slowly, as if sifting through molasses, he registered it as _his own_ voice. Sora had Dream Riku's hand in his own, with the sensitive part of his inner wrist pressed to his lips. _A kiss._ The gesture was so tender, he _saw_ himself shiver as much as he felt it. That was his _bad_ wrist. The one that would sometimes wake him up in the middle of the night, with tears stinging his eyes. Sometimes it would complain in the cold, and lock up at the worst of times. Another part he learned to live with. For _Sora._ Dream Riku had shifted so that he was straddling Sora's waist, which gave Riku a better view of Sora's face, and even a small glimpse of his own.

Riku's heart _lurched._ And in the moment of weakness, couldn't be quiet sure what he might have sent through the link.

It was one thing to be on the receiving end of Sora's many looks. It was also another thing entirely to be the one _giving_ Sora looks. But to be on the outside looking _in?_ Riku felt caught off guard, blown open and completely _raw._ The air between them was thick and heavy, but it felt the same as being weighed down by a blanket. It was a feeling he wanted to suffocate in, partially drowned by his own trapped, moist breath. It reminded him of staying up late under a sheet, with Sora, a flashlight, and a book as kids. It reminded him of recent, lazy morning touches, torn between fondling back to sleep or getting up to have a good breakfast. Sora was looking at him, _Dream Riku,_ with eyes that he thought could only ever exist in a dream. It was a look he, _Real Riku,_ hadn't even received yet. It was a look someone would give at a work of art. Or a gift they'd always wanted. Or maybe a look someone would give to a home they'd missed for a long time.

Riku knew, subjectively, he wasn't unattractive. As far as looks went, he was alright. His body was reliably fit, for the most part. His hair was a bit iffy at times, a bit too long but also a bit too short. To be honest, he never really thought about it that much. War and all. But Sora was looking at Dream Riku like he was _perfect._ Like somehow, Sora could see his past, present, and future, and still love every iteration of him. Like he had all the answers _right there,_ in front of him, _on top of him._ He was smiling, but just with his eyes. His mouth was busy forming the softest pout of pure _trust_ he'd ever seen.

And if that wasn't enough, Dream Riku was the final nail in Riku's lovestruck coffin.

Riku _knew_ what he felt for Sora. Because that's it, he _felt_ it. All he could ever do was _hope_ his eyes conveyed what his words couldn't. _I love you_ only went so far, only reached so deep. And though it usually did the trick, there was always just _so much more_ in his heart, begging to be heard. But, if he looked at Sora in any way even _close_ to the way his dream was looking at him right now, he had nothing to worry about. Sometimes, what he felt for Sora was even too much for _him._ It would rattle his ribcage in way so powerful that it _hurt,_ as if his soul was constantly reminding his body of how every single one of his bones was _Sora's._ That, by nature, he hadn't started living until Sora, and now he was destined to _die_ for Sora. And a part of him knew that someday, he would.

_He would die for Sora._

And Dream Riku was looking at Sora with eyes as stormy as he felt; a cyclone ready to devour anything in its path until his best friend was left, safe and quiet, in the eye of it all. They were a teal tinted by pliant darkness, a power made ready to serve and protect. Pupils blown wide in hungry devotion and obvious lust. It _frightened_ him. It was a look much better fitting on a man far wiser than himself; a man unafraid of the complexity and obscenity of the life he'd lived and his own damn feelings. It was a look befitting a _Master._

Which, surprisingly, Riku _was._ He was a _Master._ And a Dream Eater.

And Sora didn't seem at all afraid.

All at once, something in Riku _exploded._ He gasped and doubled-over, clutching at his chest. It was like his heart had torn itself open and turned itself inside out. He swore he could feel the warmth of blood trickling down inside his chest and pooling in his stomach. It hurt in the same way setting a broken bone did; there was a snap, ear-popping _pain,_ but it was just as quickly replaced by an ache of something that felt _right_ again. Then it was over, body full of affectionate adrenalin and skin tingly. He had the odd, base need to _preen._

A touch to his shoulder made him nearly jump out of that same skin.

Predispotioned to _fight_ (not flight), Riku centered his crouch and squared his shoulders, hands already in ready fists. But when he looked up, he was left in nervous whiplash, every instinct now telling him to _flee._ It's not the first time he'd had his own eyes looking at him. It probably wouldn't be the _last._ But that didn't make it any less unnerving every time.

The dream version of himself still had his hand on his shoulder, and he was giving him a look he couldn't read. Which was saying something, because Riku should know how to read _himself._ And this replica seemed damn near identical, as far as he could tell. Crafted by Sora himself. It was actually a bit flattering, to see all the detail Sora cataloged and memorized of him. Though, Dream Riku was still wearing pants, so he couldn't be _a hundred_ percent sure of the accuracy.

Dream Riku coughed, and Riku snapped his eyes back up. He was _not_ blushing.

There was a moment of _very_ awkward silence, at least on his end, but then his copy tilted his head slightly and smiled. It was a soft, private look, the previous storm in his eyes now far beyond a teal horizon. They shifted sideways, and for a moment, the storm flickered, but then he was kneeling down to join Riku near the ground. He was still touching his shoulder, a strong, warm point of contact, but he tried not to think about it.

“Hey.” Well, the voice sounded exactly the same.

Riku squinted.

“Hey yourself.”

Dream Riku quirked an eyebrow before huffing out a quiet laugh. At least this one seemed _nice._ The hand on his shoulder squeezed a bit, and suddenly they were closer, a pair of matching eyes only a few inches away from his own. Their breath mingled. Riku... _tried not to think about it._

“Sweet dreams, _Riku_.” Riku didn't recognize the sound of his own voice. Could he _sound_ like that? Could his own voice get as low as Dream Riku's voice just had? The hand on his shoulder gave one final squeeze, and then he had his personal space back. The replica was retreating, or well, _dissolving,_ but not fast enough that he missed the first recognizable look cross his face. A sly smirk. Followed by a wink. By the time he faded into the wind, Riku was almost gasping for air. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath.

“Riku?”

Riku jumped for the second time that night (technically), Sora's voice breaking through the fog of _whatever that was._

Right. Dream Riku was gone. It was just _him_ now. Him and Sora.

_Finally._

Gathering what composure he could, Riku quickly stood up, and finally rounded the stray bit of cloud he'd been hiding behind. Not that Sora needed to know that.

“Did you find anything?” Sora was still lying on his candy-floss bed, but his pajama shirt was now back in place (if a tad rumpled), and he was leaning up on his elbows. The moment he laid eyes back on his best friend, there was an appreciative pulse felt through the link. That, coupled with the questioning look thrown his way, made him stutter.

“U-uh. _No,_ no, nothing. It was nothing, I guess.” Riku shrugged and he hoped, dear gods did he _hope_ , it looked casual.

Sora hummed, and he bobbed his head in a slow nod. He seemed to be thinking, and Riku prayed it wasn't about how _obvious_ he was, but Sora wetted his lips then, dragged his eyes along Riku's form, and shrugged his own shoulders. Shifting his weight to one arm, he held up a hand and crooked a finger in a _come hither_ motion. His eyes sparkled in the same moment a clear message of “ _where were we?”_ and “ _get back here”_ was sent through the link. Riku swallowed, _hard,_ but it did nothing to ease the sudden dryness in his throat or the heat pooling in his abdomen. Finally, he let down the (rather poorly held up) dam of his end of the link, and right along with it went the strength to remain standing.

Everything up to that point had been a tad overwhelming. Both emotionally and sexually. And now Riku just wanted to _do something about it._ He wanted to make Sora look at him like he'd looked at his dream. _Look at me, look at me, look at me-_ it crooned from deep inside him, and he sent it creeping through the link, knowing the message was received loud and clear by the way blue eyes widened and breath hitched. He held that gaze, even as it fell while Sora laid back down. He held that gaze, even as he closed the few feet still between them, until he practically _collapsed_ into the same position his dream-self had been in previously.

The air between them _supercharged,_ hotter and heavier than what Riku had seen between them earlier. But he supposed he was a lot more _pent up_ than his replica had been. Sora wasn't giving him the look he wanted, but it didn't matter, because he was looking at _him,_ regardless. Looking up at him with dilated, murky black and rosy cheeks, lips parted with palpitating breaths. There was a silent conversation happening in the back of their minds, something Riku paid attention to only subconsciously, for it only served to amplify what they were saying with their _eyes._

_Kiss me?_

And so Riku _did._ And it was the most possessive kiss he'd ever given Sora, as if he felt some need to stake a claim to him after watching another version _of himself_ crawl all over him. He was the _real Riku._ Therefore, the _better_ Riku. He'd had that battle with himself once before, and won. He wasn't about to lose to himself _this_ time. Though he'd never been _jealous_ of himself before, so that was new. And possibly the reason why he took no time plunging the kiss into something _deeper._ It was fast tongues and sharp teeth and wet breath until-

Until it wasn't. And Riku _whined._

 _Painstakingly,_ Sora had slowed down with each kiss, closed his mouth little by little, until Riku was basically making out with a soft, warm _wall._ It had gone from desperate, to passionate, to chaste, to _not at all._ And now Riku was experiencing _whiplash_ for the second time that night as well. With no other choice, he was forced to pull away, not even trying to mask the frustration on his end of the link. But when he opened his eyes, Sora was looking right at him, pupils still blown but eyes generally more coherent. And he was smiling. An amused little twirl of his lips. With his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey, Riku?” The tone seemed harmless enough. Like any other question. And Riku, even in his current state, was _weak._ So he attempted to quell his frustration and clear his throat, achieving both with little success.

Something in him felt _on edge._

“Yes?”

For a moment, Riku was back in that tunnel, rolling down a rainbow and hitting his head on a mountain of pillows. There were little puffs of cloud strewn about, just like before- but this time, there had been no actual slide. There was just Sora, _now on top of him,_ smirking. He felt the wind knocked out of him. He felt like he needed to close his eyes to process what had just happened, but at the same time, he couldn't risk losing the sight above him. It was like seeing a solar eclipse up close and without the glasses. The sun was positioned _just so_ , behind Sora's head and setting his hair alight in a golden-brown halo. There were still fluffy white bits of the ground stuck in his hair, matching the clouds rolling above and around them. Sora's eyes looked like the sky had trickled into them, cloudy still with lust but crystal clear in their intentions. His head _literally_ in the clouds. And he was still smirking, one hand braced against Riku's heaving chest, dick warm and weighted and _hard_ against his stomach.

Riku had seen a lot in his relatively short life, but he knew, without a doubt, _this_ was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

There was something so _soft_ sent back to him through the link, then. A complete opposite of the look he was getting. It felt like languid, soothing strokes. A groan caught in the back of his throat. Slowly, as if in tune with the link, Sora leaned down, expression never wavering. Even when Riku could no longer see the smirk, he could feel it, _hear it_ when Sora spoke right against his ear, low and wet and _hot._

“This is _my_ dream, Riku. I can do what I want.”

Teeth were in his lobe, and everything went as white as the world around them.

He wasn't sure quite how long it took him to get back from _wherever_ he'd gone, but when he returned, everything came to him in pieces. First, he registered a heavy weight on him, grounding and warm but almost uncomfortable with how hard he was breathing. Then he registered something in his hair, and on his face- gentle and almost _tickling._ Humming. He heard low, soft humming. A tune he knew. A voice he recognized. The last thing to come to him was his vision, but when it did, he got an eye full of breathtaking blue.

“Welcome back.” It was Sora, lying on his chest, tracing fingers along his jaw and in his hair. He was smiling, all cheek but full of sap.

Riku wracked his brain for a moment, trying to sift through the pleasurable haze it was in to try and figure out what had happened. He poised a question on his tongue, but before he could raise his voice, Sora stopped him with a finger gently against his mouth, so the sound melted into an almost-purr.

“You came so hard I think you woke yourself up. It was _iffy_ for a few seconds, but I called you back.”

Riku choked.

Sora, graciously, gave him time to recover, smiling almost sympathetically while Riku coughed into his hand, trying to swallow down the explanation. His eyes stung with tears, or shame, or _both._

“S-so, you _know?”_ His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears, weak from his fit of coughing but rough in the way it always got post-orgasm. He couldn't bring himself to look at his best friend, _boyfriend,_ (they hadn't really worked out a title, yet); instead opting to squint up at the cool sky above them. The sun burned spots into his eyes, but better dealing with _that_ than Sora's face.

“Do I- _Riku,_ I knew the _whole time.”_ He had the audacity to laugh at him, and Riku wanted to be mad, but he could feel the giggles vibrate against his own chest, and it was just plain _pleasant._ He was practically boneless and everything felt wooly-warm after such an intense orgasm. All parts of him sated and lazy. He could accept that he wasn't actually mad, but he wasn't about to give in and look at him.

Eyes still trained to the sky, Riku sighed. “What gave it away?”

Sora shifted on top of him, and Riku guessed where he was going, so he closed his eyes. He still wasn't going to give Sora the satisfaction of a _look,_ even if it meant clenching his eyelids firmly shut, since Sora had indeed shimmied up his body so that they were face to face. He could tell by the shadow that passed over the sun, from behind his lids.

“Riku. I knew the minute you landed here. I felt you _watching._ ” Riku bit his lip. He didn't know how to handle the implications of all that, of Sora _knowing_ he'd been watching. Sora knowing he'd met his dream. “It's why I let _him_ go. Obvious arrival aside, _you_ are still wearing your shirt. And Riku...Your eyes are fucking _pink._ ”

Riku groaned. Then he lifted his head, just enough to bang it back down against the soft ground. It didn't make as satisfying a thump as he'd wanted it to. _Needed_ it to. He still didn't open his eyes, but they fluttered without his permission when gentle fingers caressed his temples. He felt _foolish._ Amongst many other things. Confusion, guilt, anxiety, mingled with warmth and awe and _wonder._ He felt like he'd gotten way more than he bargained for in this silly adventure. Bitten off more than he could chew. He'd dived into this dream in search of a horny Sora, and what he got instead was an existential crisis, emotional roller coaster, and the _weirdest_ boner.

And apparently pink eyes.

Unbeknownst to him, Riku had sent a plethora of jumbled, indecipherable messages through the link. He felt Sora's hands cup his face, thumbs pressing gently at the corners of his mouth while his fingers tickled his ears. There was silence, filled only by the sound of his quickening breath. He balled his hands into fists at his sides, the beginnings of hyperventilating, fixating on suddenly _too much,_ and he worried he might not wake up, but turn this dream into a _nightmare._ He pressed crescent moons into the palms of his hands with blunt fingernails.

“Riku, look at me.” Sora's voice shook him to the core. It sounded like he'd swallowed gravel. “ _Please.”_ And then it wobbled. It sounded like tears and starvation, hoarse and hot and edging. It wasn't a command, he still heard in it the option to refuse, but the words put Riku teetering on a precipice of something important. And he could never deny Sora. So cautiously, he relented, and slowly slid his eyes open.

Everything around them disappeared. The only thing Riku could see was Sora's eyes.

Sora was looking at him like he was _perfect._

Riku sucked in a breath, sharp and stuttering. He was _drowning._ Drowning in the sky, the link between them an aggressive riptide of _yours_ and _mine_ and _yours_ and _mine,_ it sent him tumbling and struggling to breathe somewhere stuck between _now_ and _forever._ Fingers were in his hair, cradling his spiraling thoughts with a pressure that scratched like corals, all the while skewering them on the spears of skyscrapers. He felt like flying on wings he _swore_ he could grow, sinking teeth into this nearly palpable _thing_ between them, but his lungs were full and heavy with volcanic water.

There was a kiss. A ripple across his consciousness, and a breeze. A tidepool in the clouds, a warped film of washed-out pink, and Sora's face. Endearing and searching and _soft_ with satisfaction upon finding what he was looking for. Riku wasn't sure what he'd been looking for, but he felt _found,_ so he assumed it must have been him.

"Riku, your eyes are _glowing_." Sora was over him again, mouth a wide grin of adoration and astonishment. Somehow, the sun hadn't moved, still forming a bright crown around his head. The clouds had rolled on by, but one particularly well-shaped puff remained behind his back, and Riku wanted to lament about the proven existence of angels.

"Are your dreams _always_ this romantic?" He quirked a brow and twitched his fingers at his sides. He could feel Sora, just as hard and heavy as he'd been at the start of this dream, and he wanted to _touch_.

Sora smirked, a slow but fond tilt of his head, as he reached out for Riku's wrist. His _bad wrist._ "No," He whispered, just loud enough to be heard, and Riku watched as he brought that wrist to his face, pressed his lips along the sensitive skin in a purposeful drag of a kiss and murmured words, "but this isn't my dream anymore, Riku. It's _ours_." The hand Sora guided ended up in locks warmed by the sun. It trembled there, just for a second, before gripping _tight_ to pull Sora down into a sob-stopping kiss.

Sora groaned in a way that screamed _finally_ , and it was met half-way by a growl of the same inclination from Riku's end of the link. The urgency from earlier though, was now replaced by delayed gratification, and a feeling of _worth the wait._ Riku kept the one hand in Sora's hair and lifted the other to grip Sora's thigh, just as hard, fabric wrinkling beneath his fingers. It earned him a guttural hum pushed into his throat, and an enjoyable grind against his abdomen.

Which, apparently, wasn't _nearly_ enough for Sora, because he broke apart from the kiss with a breathy gasp to start unbuttoning his flannel. It forced Riku to drop his hand from his hair, mirroring the others spot on Sora's other thigh. "I was waiting for you, you know. To find yourself." He was talking, voice still low and hardly more than a mumble. Riku almost had to strain to hear it, his own heart pumping too loud in his ears, eyes watching as deft fingers quickly exposed more and more tanned skin when he should have been watching wet, swollen lips instead. "I wanted you to see you the way _I_ do. I just want you to be you, Riku. It's _okay_ to be you. I _love_ you. And I think-" the last button undone, Sora placed his hands on Riku's chest, thumbs rubbing _distracting_ soothing circles over the shirt there, and Riku could clearly see the way he was panting by his now bare chest, "I think you're getting it now."

Riku was really, truly sure of only one thing: he was definitely getting hard again.

" _Sora_." He dug his fingers into the clothed flesh of Sora's thighs, felt the muscles beneath quiver in response, and watched as Sora clamped his mouth shut so hard he heard his teeth click. That was better. Riku had had enough of talking and thinking at this point. He just wanted to _be_.

" _Yes_." As if Sora heard him, the word came rushed out in a triumphant sigh, agreeing that Riku should definitely just _be,_ and he felt coaxing praise eagerly sent through the link and right to his dick. It caused him to squirm, a slow roll of his hips off the ground and up against Sora, who was straddling just high enough up his body to be _frustrating_. In turn, it sent Sora rocking into his stomach, the hands on his chest almost scratching through the fabric as he fell forward to reconnect their lips together in a hard, sloppy kiss. Riku felt Sora's tongue, wet and languid against his lips, and he more than willingly parted them to allow him access to lick into his mouth. He tried to kiss back, tried to send even a _part_ of what he was feeling back through the link, but in each case he was practically pushed back by Sora, who was making a fantastic feat of leaving not a single inch of his mouth unlavished, and filling his heart with such an _obscene_ amount of reverent acceptance.

At some point, Sora pulled away again, only to start littering Riku's face with warm, moist, open-mouthed kisses, each punctuated with a variation of his own name. "'ku, Riku, _Riku_ , _Ri_ ku, Ri _ku_ ," his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his eyes, each received a kiss, and this close Sora's eyes were almost purple, murky blue and blown black tinted with the pink haze emanating from his own eyes. Riku felt the hands on his chest move, rub up his clavicle and passed his neck, leaving goosebumps behind until he was shivering on the ground, those hands cradling his face like he wasn't a man that had survived _wars_ already. Like he didn't know the storm he contained, or the monster, or the darkness. Like he wasn't afraid. Like he knew it was-

"All for me. Riku, your _eyes-_ they're so _pretty_. You're so pretty for me." Riku gasped, felt his skin flush all the way down his neck, and he wanted to cry. Sora nosed his way along his jaw and to his ear, and Riku was trembling before he even spoke. "Everything you've ever done for me, Riku, _I can see it_." Even after Sora pulled back, Riku felt the aftershocks of the words and hot breath against the shell of his ear.

"I can see it, Riku. In every scar. In every hurt. In every look. I can see it. I can see everything you've done, and everything you're _still_ doing. And though I wish you wouldn't have to, I can imagine everything else you're _going_ to do for me." Sora was moving, lifting himself up on his knees, but Riku couldn't let go, _refused_ to let go, and so he clutched desperately at Sora's thighs, following him even though all he did was scoot himself down Riku's body a bit more. "Not only can I see it, Riku, " Sora was smirking again, impish, and Riku had the barest of moments to catch his breath before he sank back down, "I can _feel_ it, too." The friction was delicious, barely obscured by the two pairs of pants between them, and Riku _did_ cry, a breathy, shaky keen as he threw his head back, tears finally slipping from the corners of his eyes.

"I-I love you, Riku. I love the way you love _me_." Sora was panting above him, and still trying to be sentimental. It was all kinds of adorable and way too much. His shirt had slipped along the way, the fabric now pooling around his elbows, his bare shoulders sweaty and shimmering in the sunlight. Riku tried blinking through the moisture in his eyes and the overflowing swell of his heart, tried focusing on the freckles that seemed to glitter on Sora's skin. "I just want you to love yourself, too."

Riku choked on a sob, and it wracked through his whole body, and then he choked on a _groan_ , because he'd accidentally rubbed fronts with Sora. In the sudden flash of lust, Riku thought back to the image of himself with Sora, and the following conversation he'd had with himself. He thought that maybe, if Sora could do it, and he _dreamed_ Riku could do it, maybe he actually could. Love himself. Dream Riku did. But then again, this was _all_ just a dream. And Sora was _damn near riding his dick,_ looking every bit the start of any good fantasy. He groped his hands upwards, creasing fabric, just far enough to press his thumbs firmly against the squishy bit where Soa's thigh met hip. Far beyond the stage of shame, Riku sent an unabashed, burning request through the link.

_Fuck me?_

He watched as, message received, Sora's nostrils flared and his irises noticeably diminished. It was the most darkness he'd ever seen in him, and there was something so _pure_ about that; Sora held a darkness just for him that he didn't yet know about. A darkness that promised to melt him from the inside out, flames so hot they burned nothing but _blue._ And Riku wanted that darkness, _Sora's darkness,_ to replace every frost-bitten fleck of flesh that his own darkness still festered in.

“ _Oh,_ Riku.” Sora crooned his name the same way someone addressed the presence of something _precious,_ like jewels and flowers.

The hands on his chest moved, quickly set to work on unbuttoning his shirt, and he held his breath as they shook, fumbled once, before getting the last annoying button free. And then those hands smoothed up his chest, hard enough to press into every dip of muscle along the way, leaving behind a trail of sweat half from Sora's palms and half from his own pores. They pushed against his collarbone, skin paling even more under the short pressure, and then they were behind his neck, shaking and tickling the hairs on his nape. Riku assumed Sora was going to kiss him, and was caught by surprise when he bent at the waist to nuzzle his face against his stomach instead, cheek squished against him as he moaned his name like he was being _tortured._ The hot exhale ghosted across the scar on his hip, and he both felt it but didn't, and it was enough to make him involuntarily rock his hips.

Sora inhaled a long, stuttery thing, lips damp and open against an ab, and Riku moaned meekly in response, thumbs _digging_ into Sora's hip bones. They stayed like that a minute, Riku paralyzed by _so much_ , and Sora seeming to gather enough will to continue. It was a moment's reprieve in the sun, the breeze ruffling through fallen hair and cooling sticky skin. Riku had time to wonder if the rays would harm his complexion like in the waking world. Sora signaled his gathered coherency with a gulp, which Riku felt travel down the throat pressed to his front, and swore it somehow reached his own dick, where it swelled at the head and leaked out as precum.

Everything went a little too cold a little too fast as Sora rolled off of him, hands forced to fist in puffs, and Riku was in his right mind to complain, but the need died the second navy blue and royal red soared over his head- Sora had shimmied out of his pajama pants with lightning speed, and shucked them somewhere into the dream beyond, possibly lost to the clouds forever. It left him standing, shaky, sweaty and naked, save for the flannel still hanging from his forearms. He threw him a dazzling display of pearly whites, a smile accompanied by a scrunched up nose and a tilt of his head, and-

Riku never wanted to wake up.

All he could do was stare, _dopey,_ as Sora lowered himself back down by his feet, and coyly fisted the yellow and pewter legs of his pants before pulling them clean off in one, swift go. He couldn't help but flinch at the cool tickle of the natural temperature against his overheated skin. He didn't suffer long, though, because Sora was back on him like white on rice, and his head was swimming from how glorious it felt to be skin-to-skin. They ended up right back where they had been, with Riku's hands on plush, pliant thighs and Sora straddling his hips, erections high to the sky and flush together.

“ _Sora.”_ Now _he_ was the one sounding tortured.

“So, this whole thing is as new to me as it is you.” Sora was talking again, and Riku loved _hated_ it, but he sounded winded and far away, and that alone kept his attention. “I'm not exactly sure I can just-” he puffed out his cheeks and waved his hands around in some vague gesture, “ _dream up_ some lube. So this will have to do. Till next time.” Sora winked, a flirtatious flick of long lashes, and Riku felt himself laughing, bubbly, _tipsy._ “Sora, this is-” a small, tan hand wrapped around his cock, around _both_ their cocks, so the last word came out as a wheeze, “ _p-perfect.”_

Sora lulled his head back, and Riku struggled to watch because he _wanted_ to look at Sora, Sora's bobbing adam's apple as he moaned out a single syllable laugh, the beads of sweat cascading down his shoulders, but it was just so damn hard to actually _see_ _anything_ beyond the thumb tracing over the engorged veins of his member. And then Sora started stroking, and _grinding,_ and what was eyesight anyway when there was so much to _feel._

The way Sora was on top of him meant that, with every gentle roll, he'd squeeze Riku's thighs with his knees, and their ballsacks would _brush,_ and Riku hardly had time to inhale a proper amount of oxygen before he was sent gasping _again._ It was a vicious, euphoric cycle that he'd only been stuck in for a few rounds _._ His fingers had gone from pressing to digging to _clawing_ at the strong muscles of Sora's hamstrings, sweat creating a slip and drag that left white, then redding welts behind. Maybe even bruises. But Sora just moaned, broken and low, dick just as wet, and Riku just didn't care. He wasn't going to last long enough _to_ care.

The sun had gone from warm to baking, the clouds radiating their own heat from absorbed ozone, and the wind could no longer relieve their simmering skin. Everything slowly melted into soaked, slick slides and sloppy strokes, the sky loud with hot sighs. So it was no shock when Sora slipped on a thrust, having put a little too much force into it, and had to throw a hand out behind him for extra support, shoving said hand in the small space between Riku's legs. Meanwhile, the hand that had been jerking them both off to _near completion_ scrambled at a pale hip for purchase, and Riku's dick slid lubriciously and blasphemously along the crease between Sora's thigh and groin.

Riku saw stars in the midday sky.

“S-sorry.” Sora panted, moved to right himself, and Riku jerked his head from side to side, all but silently _begging_ him not to move. He couldn't bring himself to speak, to voice just how _aroused_ he was by this, by Sora looking over him, looking like a fucking _god,_ like Helios himself, and how he, much like Dionysus, was going to overdose on the sheer ecstasy that smearing his cum over secretive, sunkissed flesh filled him with. In that moment, his dick fit there just as well as it fits _inside_ Sora, and it felt just as claiming.

Their eyes met through the refracting atmosphere, as if one mirage beholding another, and Sora understood. Heard everything, more or less, through the link, and could say absolutely _nothing_ in the face of such rapture. All he could do was nod, a short bob of hair, and settle in the new position, leaning back on his one hand to give Riku easier access to his thigh. Naturally, his back arched, ass pressed heavily to Riku's hips, the flannel falling off his back to tickle pale knees and display most of his skin to the glow of the sun. Greedily, in the back of his mind, he wanted to tear sharp teeth through his entire frame, rip right down from head to toe, until the light in Sora could bleed out freely, only because he knew it would outshine that scorching star.

Riku rutted into that pliant, sublime spot like a man on the verge of insanity. He held his breath the whole time, because he knew this was it, the high-dive back into consciousness, but before he stepped off the waterfall, Sora's voice reached his ears, and rang loudly in his head as he _did_ climax so hard he woke up that time, gasping and shaking and blind, with words like “ _beautiful_ ” and “ _come for me”_ still sending aftershocks down his spine.

Reality came back to him harder and faster than his delicate physique could handle. Blinking away the tears did little to help visualize the room around him, the dark way too sharp in contrast of the world he'd just been in. The sweat on his skin and spunk in his pants invited cold shivers, no longer warmed by the sun. The bed was a lot stiffer than the clouds he'd just been in. Maybe if he closed his eyes, willed his body to relax, he could get back to that wonderful place his mind was already struggling to remember.

A noise beside him made him jump, and he quickly scrubbed away his tears with an arm, squinting in concentration until he could focus on the place the disturbance had come from, just in time to see Sora arch as taught as a bowstring, toes curl and hands fists his own hair. Hesitantly, Riku reached out a hand and lingered the most tentative of touches against Sora's thigh, then watched in amazement as an orgasm hit him hard enough to shake the bed, Riku's name flying from his lips in a keen so high pitched only bats could probably hear it. _He_ heard it.

Senses suddenly sharp after such a scene, Riku easily witnessed the battle Sora had with his eyelids, before he finally blinked them open and awake.

“Hey.” Riku whispered, as if to not ruin the magic still lingering between them, around them.

Sora's smile was soft at first, then it slanted into something more playful, and Riku inhaled sharply.

“Hey yourself.”

Riku blushed, and he felt it go all the way down to his toes, whether it was physically possible or not. He averted his eyes and huffed. “We should...probably shower.”

“Uhg. _Tomorrow.”_ Sora sounded the epitome of lazy, and comfortable, and Riku was weak to argue.

So he sighed, tried his best to ignore how crusty his pajamas were getting, and laid back down on the bed. Sora was quick to attach himself to him, curling up and spooning his side until Riku had a mouthful of spikey hair and legs tangled with his own. He wanted to complain, but all that came out was yawn, eyelids quickly drooping. He felt a hand placed over his heart, rubbing soothing circles against his chest.

“I had a...really good dream, Riku..” Sora's words were soft, heavy with incoming sleep, and broken by a yawn. “So _pretty.”_

Riku's heart clenched, and he stayed awake just long enough to whisper how much he loved him against his scalp.

He wondered if he'd look at him the same way in the morning.


End file.
